Sightings
by Zombiegait
Summary: KakaSaku, AU. Once he spots that head of pink hair, he can't quite get it out of his head. LJ fic request.


**Author Notes:** My take on LJ's katanaxmistress's drabble 'Meetings' as per her request. I loved her little drabble (which you can read at http://dirtied-faith[dot]livejournal[dot]com/1314[dot]html), and am very happy she asked me to do this. x3 This is my first AU, so hopefully I did okay~ And sorry, but I had to up the rating a little bit. I couldn't help it. XD

**Pairings or Characters:** Kakashi/Sakura, very brief mention of Ino/Chouji**  
Warnings:** AU, language and some sexual situations (lulz I sound like an MPAA warning)**  
Word Count:** 1320**  
Summary:** Once he spots that head of pink hair, he can't quite get it out of his head.

* * *

**Sightings**

The first time he saw her, he was at an office party he hadn't wanted to go to. He knew he looked out of place, but he couldn't really bring himself to care. Friends of the host he didn't know and didn't care about kept coming up to him, offering him drinks, and he was too lazy to shoo them away. While looking around for help from his coworkers, his eyes caught sight of a mop of pink hair. He'd always thought his hair color was unusual, but he never actively dyed it to be so. He wondered if it was natural or if she did it to snag the attention of guys like him. He stared at the young woman unabashedly, absently answering the questions the obnoxious people around him kept asking. Their eyes met once, but she seemed to dismiss him after that. He grinned despite himself. He always liked a challenge.

The second time he saw her was the next day. He had found out her name later at the party, courtesy of the host, and recalled that she was to be his recently-hired secretary. He remembered little after that, but had woken up with a naked woman he didn't know and a pounding headache. He considered cleaning up, but was struck with an idea. Instead, he arrived late to work, with all the signs of a well-fucked, hungover man. She wouldn't meet his eyes the rest of the day, and he smiled as he watched her walk out of his office.

The third time he saw her was an accident. Partly. He _had_ intended on letting her see the brunette below him – what was her name again? – walk out of his office with wobbly knees and mussed hair and watch her speculate. Unfortunately, he had forgotten to lock the door – and her warning that she was going to drop by with some papers in just a little while – and she walked in to see him against his desk, shirt open and tugged down to his elbows, pants around his knees, and wrapped in the arms and legs of his naked coworker. He was a little surprised, and more than a little disappointed when he received her two-weeks notice later that afternoon.

The fourth time he saw her was her last day in the office. She'd been avoiding him quite well since the day she'd caught him literally with his trousers down. He sat in his chair behind his desk – which he caught her eyeing in a mix of unease and embarrassment – leaning back and looking quite calm as she thanked him again for the opportunity, gave him a bow, and walked out of his office without looking back. His eyes followed her until she disappeared in the elevator, presumably never to be seen again. He ran a thumb over his lip in thought before he called the blond who had hosted that party into his office.

The fifth time he saw her she was wearing a very nice red dress that was much more flattering than the clothes she wore in the office. But he wasn't surprised to see her. He grinned behind his glass of scotch when the blond dragged her over and the two joined him at his table. He flirted and joked with the two of them, but she seemed more concerned with nursing her drink – something girly and pink, which he felt suited her – and ordering refills. When the night got late he offered to take her home, but her friend, probably guessing his intentions, quickly batted him away, telling him that wasn't necessary. The blond seemed less than pleased to have figured out that his attention to her the last few days had little to do with her at all. He knew that meant game over. So why couldn't he get the pink-haired woman out of his head?

The sixth time he saw her he almost missed her. He was being yelled at for about the eighth time over the phone about missing another doctor's appointment and hadn't expected to see her again after that night in the bar nearly two months ago, even if she raided his thoughts nearly every day. He promptly hung up the phone when he spotted her familiar pink hair and made a move to follow down the street after her, but froze on the spot. What would he say? What _could_ he say? Up until a little while ago, she'd been the latest in a long line of targets, and so far the only one he hadn't been able to get. But he wasn't so sure he thought about her like that anymore. He watched her until she disappeared before turning and heading towards his apartment.

The seventh time he saw her was just after he'd waited at that corner he had seen her at again. He hadn't really paid attention to the days, but imagined it was probably either the fifteenth or sixteenth time he'd been there just hoping to see her. He took the long way home, walking through the neighborhoods instead of cutting through the blocks with all the restaurants. It wasn't that late, but most of the lights were off in the houses he passed except for one. He looked up and his eyes widened. He would know that hair and red dress anywhere. He raised a hand to wave, but didn't stop or slow his pace.

The eighth time he saw her was at the wedding of her blond friend and the chubby guy who worked two floors below him. They had been seated at the same table, so he figured he'd been forgiven by the bride for using her before. She was the one to start the conversation, and he couldn't stop smiling after that. He flirted and teased and joked with her, and fortunately, this time she seemed much more interested in him than the glass of champagne in her hand. She immediately looked to him when she caught the bouquet, and his smile only grew. When the party began to disperse, he dared to let his hand rest on her waist, and when she blushed and a shy smile appeared, his fingers squeezed gently before he led her to his car.

The ninth time he saw her he felt like he was seeing her for the first time. He'd brought her home and spent all night touching and kissing and tasting her, and every orgasm was the best of his life, and for the first time he could remember he was happy to find he wasn't alone when he woke up. He was still baffled by her hair color, but he was grateful it was so striking and grabbed his attention at that party. He started running his fingers through it as he kissed along her naked shoulder. She stirred slowly, and when she looked up at him he rested his chin on her arm and smiled. He admitted that he wondered if her hair color was natural, and told her he was happy to find out that it was. She rolled her eyes at him before smiling and pulling him in for a kiss.


End file.
